


The Art of Wanting

by Cinaed



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Community: sg_rarepairings, Developing Relationship, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-03-14
Updated: 2008-03-14
Packaged: 2017-10-08 03:19:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/72142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinaed/pseuds/Cinaed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ronon has learned many things over the years, but one of the most important is how to take his wants and wishes and put them in a box in his head where they can't bother or distract him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Art of Wanting

Even before he's able to move through the city of the Ancestors without an escort, Ronon makes his way up and down the corridors. It's partly to annoy his escorts, partly to see for himself the wonders of the city, and partly to shake off the claustrophobia that tightens up his chest and urges him to escape through the Ring of the Ancestors and never look back. He has nowhere else to go, after all. Sateda is made up of ashes, ghosts, and memories. 

After a few days, Sheppard's waiting for him in the corridor outside his quarters. "Mind if I run with you?" he asks, expression unreadable. 

Ronon shrugs, wondering if he really has a choice, and says, "If you want." 

Sheppard waves off the guards and runs alongside him. 

For that, Ronon goes slower, lets Sheppard keep pace. Once (_if_, a traitorous voice whispers in the back of his head) they trust him enough to lose the guards, Ronon will show Sheppard how seven years of Running have taught him to practically fly. 

*

Ronon has learned many things over the years, but one of the most important is how to take his wants and wishes and put them in a box in his head where they can't bother or distract him. It's what kept him sane during that endless stretch of being chased as prey across the galaxy. 

There's something in the air or water here, though, that is dissolving the box bit by bit. He's finding it difficult to ignore the want that rises up from the pit of his stomach, the itch in his hands to touch the back of Sheppard's neck, the way his mouth waters sometimes to taste the sheen of sweat on Sheppard's skin after a particularly long run. 

Sometimes it is all Ronon can do to just lengthen his stride until Sheppard's struggling to keep up, cursing him under his breath, until the only thing in front of him is the empty corridor, Sheppard out of sight and less (_slightly_ less) of a temptation. 

* 

The morning runs with Sheppard have become so deeply ingrained in him after almost two years that every time Sheppard is injured and Ronon has to run alone, it feels unnatural. Even now, glancing sideways, Ronon can see a bruise on Sheppard's jaw and a slight pallor to his skin that reveals he's not quite well enough to be back on active duty, despite his attempts to cajole Carson into saying he is. 

Sheppard notices him looking. His mouth quirks into a rueful grin, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of mischief and irony. "All the colors of the rainbow," he says, gesturing towards the bruise and then more vaguely towards the back of his head, around the spot Carson had fussed over and announced was a concussion.

Ronon smirks a little. The bruise isn't _quite_ a rainbow yet but well on its way. "Next time, duck," he suggests.

Sheppard laughs, the sound echoing in the empty corridor, and drawls, "I'll try to remember that." He's grinning again; the sight of it makes the want that's coiled in Ronon's belly rise up and overwhelm him. 

Ronon knows the feel of Sheppard's skin from countless sparring matches. What he doesn't know is the feel of Sheppard's mouth against his. Now, as Ronon kisses him, he finds that Sheppard's mouth is warm, lips slightly chapped. There's the beginning of a beard prickling his skin. 

Sheppard's eyes are wide and startled-looking when Ronon finally breaks the kiss. Ronon just waits. Either Sheppard will bolt and avoid him until he's mentally convinced himself this was just an odd Satedan custom or he'll-- Ronon tries not to think too hard about the second option, because hope has always seemed to let him down. 

At last, though, Sheppard blinks and says, "Huh. That was-- Huh." He sounds a little dazed, but there's the hint of a smile on his lips, and Ronon feels something in him relax a little.

"Teyla and Rodney are meeting us for breakfast," he says and turns in the direction of the commissary. After a moment, he hears Sheppard's footfalls following after and Sheppard's gaze on his back. 

They're almost to the commissary when Sheppard breaks the silence. "My quarters, after breakfast?" His voice is a little hoarser than usual, a little more jittery, and Ronon smiles to himself. 

"Yeah," is all he says and opens the half-dissolved box of wants and wishes in his head.


End file.
